An Italian Dream

EPILOGUE

FERN – THREE YEARS LATER

Fern twisted her hands together as she watched the tree-lined lane. She had no idea why she felt nervous, but she did. Perhaps it was because she wanted people to fall in love with the place as much as she had.

She glanced behind her at the farmhouse. The stonework was an earthy mix of pale grey, rust-red and apricot tones, while the restored wooden shutters framed the windows. The building and surroundings evoked a sense of peace. All she could hear was the breeze whispering through the branches and chilled hits on Spotify playing from inside.

Although La Casa dei Sogni, surrounded by forested hills, vineyards and the gentle green of open fields, felt far from anyone and anything, in reality the nearest town was within view, perched on a hill, its medieval walls honey-lit at night, a beacon in the darkness. Matteo’s Tuscan retreat was only a short drive away too. Fate had brought them together at Il Ritiro d’Arte and Stella’s gift had led Fern on quite the adventure.

Fern had been floored by Stella’s unexpected gesture that cold December day on Capri. Although she’d been basking in love from her first couple of nights with Matteo, Fern’s head and heart had remained in turmoil when it came to her friend. Their friendship had seemed damaged almost beyond repair. She was uncertain how she could ever trust her again, but to be given a villa… Stella had implored her, saying it was because she wanted to do something life-changing for Fern, because she deserved it and because she was sorry. Fern had wanted to refuse it; she hated the thought of owing Stella. But Stella wouldn’t take no for an answer; the villa was Fern’s and she could do what she wanted with it. The gesture proved to be the start of something special for Fern and a second chance for Stella, her generosity the beginning of a difficult journey to try to piece back together their friendship.

Leaving Capri for the second time had been even harder, yet there was no uncertainty about Fern and Matteo’s feelings for each other, and Fern returned home free of Paul and the constraints of an unhappy marriage. He’d admitted adultery and while he’d kept the business, she’d received a lump sum payment. It was a clean break, with neither of them having ties to each other beyond the girls. She’d spent Christmas with Amber and Ruby, the last one in the family home, and after a huge amount of soul-searching, Fern was finally clear on her future.

Without a doubt, the villa had changed her life. Capri was a place she’d like to go back and visit, but it wasn’t where she’d wanted to live. She’d fallen in love with Matteo, but she needed purpose in her life and to do something meaningful. Her idea of moving to Wales to open a B&B grew. With the family home sold, Fern had jumped at the chance of a summer in Tuscany when Matteo invited her. And that was when Fern had first laid eyes on La Casa dei Sogni.

The rustling of leaves brought Fern back to the present. Standing in the shadow of the farmhouse, she shivered. It was a bright spring day; the row of dark green cypress trees that lined the lane were bold against the pale-blue sky. The air was cool and fresh and she could smell the Bolognese that she’d made that morning. There would be lots of mouths to feed later, but Fern loved the idea of her Tuscan home being breathed into life with the arrival of other people.

‘There you are.’ Amber’s voice filled the stillness of the afternoon as she crunched across the drive. ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’

‘I thought I heard a car.’

Amber glanced at her watch. ‘It’s going to be another half-hour at least until they get here.’

Fern breathed out slowly. ‘I’m just worried I’ve forgotten something.’

‘That’s why we’re doing a soft launch, Mum.’ Amber hooked her arm in Fern’s and laughed. ‘And there’s absolutely nothing to worry about. The place is perfect. Come on, I’ve made tea. Let’s at least wait with a cuppa.’

With a last glance at the empty lane, Fern followed Amber inside. She knew everything was fine and she wholeheartedly agreed that the place was perfect. After seeing and falling in love with the stone farmhouse during her summer with Matteo, it had become clear what she wanted to do, and where. The Capri villa, although beautiful, had been chosen by Stella, while the Tuscan farmhouse had stolen Fern’s heart. Stella had said she could do whatever she wanted with the villa, so, with her mind made up, she had put it up for sale. Everything had then begun to slot into place. The eventual sale made Fern a multi-millionaire overnight. With Ruby graduating and getting her first nursing job in Bristol, Fern had bought a three-bed apartment on the harbourside for her to live in, and when Amber had swapped the bright lights of London for a digital marketer job in Bristol, she’d moved in too.

The exchange on the Tuscan farmhouse had been finalised the summer before, so Fern had spent the last few months renovating it. Not that it was in a state of disrepair, but with the money she’d made on the Capri villa sale, she was able to turn a tired-looking farmhouse into a boutique B&B that managed to be luxurious while retaining its rustic charm.

Her dream of a tiny B&B in Wales had grown into a Tuscan escape, a place far removed from the worries of everyday life, nestled in the beautiful countryside within reach of medieval villages and the historic city of Siena. Long days had been spent painting, tiling and tackling the garden, offset by equally long evenings having dinner with and talking to Matteo. The nights were far from lonely with them together at his Tuscan retreat or surrounded by peeling wallpaper and the smell of paint at Fern’s farmhouse. Fern didn’t mind being on her own when he returned to Capri. Her days were filled with hard but satisfying work and long chats and video calls with Amber and Ruby, plus she began to get to know the locals. And, of course, Matteo would pop back for fleeting visits. The nights of crying herself to sleep were long gone.

It had been Amber’s idea to do a soft launch – a week with Fern’s friends and family before paying guests arrived for the second week of the Easter holidays. After a cup of tea, the peace was broken by the welcome sound of Chloe and Ruby’s laughter as they emerged from one of the taxis. Fern’s heart filled with joy. Ruby’s paramedic boyfriend got out next, his eyes roving over Fern’s new home. She had only met him once, and had found him sensitive and well-mannered and, most importantly, he doted on Ruby.

Fern opened the car door for Edith and helped her out. Edith held Fern at arm’s length, her smile making the corners of her eyes crinkle, before she pulled her into a tight hug. Edith had become a close friend. She was the mother figure Fern had always craved, but their friendship was what she treasured most – someone Fern could bounce her ideas off during their long phone calls.

‘It’s good to see you.’ Fern’s words were muffled against Edith’s shoulder.

‘You too,’ Edith said, releasing her.

Across the other side of the taxi, Stella met Fern’s eyes and smiled. There was always an initial awkwardness whenever they saw each other, as if they had to work out how to behave around each other, but they’d find their way, they always did.

Jacob emerged from the taxi and towered over his mum, but at nearly seventeen, he’d grown into his lankiness. Fern was glad they were here. All families had their ups and downs, and Stella and her children were like that: family.

The taxis sped off up the lane, and ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ rang out as Fern ushered everyone inside. Amber headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on again, allowing Fern to show off her new home. After months of hard work, it felt good to have the place filled with people. Only Matteo was missing.

* * *

With bags taken to rooms and drinks made, Fern left everyone in Amber’s capable hands. The open-plan living room was the heart of the house, a space to relax in, with a wall of books at the far end, a sofa and armchairs around the fireplace in the centre and a dining area close to the kitchen. Fern’s lemon tree painting that she’d started at Matteo’s retreat hung on the wall, a constant reminder of just how far she’d come, both in her painting and sketching, which she’d continued as a hobby, as well as her personal life. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it had been the beginning of a whole new chapter of her life.

Fern liked how the kitchen was separate, yet she was still able to hear the chatter drifting through. It was a proper farmhouse kitchen with a large wooden table in the centre and a range oven where a fireplace had once been. The mushroom-coloured walls and stripped wood floors were warmed by the sunlight streaming through the French doors. Two large dishes of lasagne were ready to go in the oven and the table was covered with chopping boards, bowls and salad. It wasn’t long ago that Fern had considered cooking to be a chore, but now she was embracing the idea of feeding her family and eventually guests. She’d also hired a local woman to help with the cleaning and washing, and she had Amber working on the marketing side of the business from the UK. They were a team and their strained relationship had healed. Everything had come together perfectly.

‘Hey,’ a familiar voice said.

Stella was leaning in the kitchen doorway with a mug of coffee in her hand. ‘Just wondered if you needed any help?’

‘I don’t think so. It’s all under control.’ Fern pulled on the oven gloves. She glanced at Stella. ‘You can keep me company though, if you like.’